Everyone knows that we love Kickers. We’ve been ranting, raving and reminiscing about the brand for the past 15 years, but in case you still haven’t got the memo, Andrew recently wrote a love letter confessing his love for the brand’s iconic Kick-Hi:
“A midweek sun hung low over Manchester, casting that rich gold hue across the red brick bones of Ancoats. I met Louie, a good friend of Proper’s, for a coffee at Just Between Friends; my go-to spot when the day feels loud and you need five minutes and a batch brew. He rolled up on his trusted steel steed, parking up outside the open windows where light roast aromas spill onto the street.
It’s a good place for people watching, Ancoats. Everyone seems to be on the move here, like the buildings themselves might someday get up and follow. The brown suede Kick Hi boots on Louie’s feet looked right at home too with their contrast stitching and padded collar. There’s something fitting about them pacing these streets, as if the boots remember when factory smoke hung heavy in the air, when warehouses became dancefloors and before the cobbles were claimed by oat milk and dachshunds in designer knitwear.
That’s the thing about Kickers. While everything around them has been bent out of shape by algorithms and absurdity – the internet, the mobile, the fridge that plays Spotify – these boots have stayed rooted. Still sturdy. Still unmistakable. Still a symbol of something louder than trends: self-expression and the kind of subcultural spirit that doesn’t need to shout.
Their enduring popularity comes down to a few things. Firstly, they just work. Built to take a beating, from the playground to the dancefloor and the mosh pit, they’ve always had that perfect blend of functionality and flair. That crepe sole has seen more movement than Bez’s jaw. You could walk through mud, dance ‘til 5am and still wear them to school or the pub the next day. They’re durable, comfy, and just the right side of clunky.
And then there’s Manchester. This city has always had a soft spot for the Kick Hi. Maybe it’s the red brick symmetry, maybe it’s the way they cut through a bit of drizzle, or maybe it’s the fact they’ve been worn by everyone from Madchester royalty to modern-day vinylists behind the decks at Soup. They were a mainstay on sticky floors and grassy fields, their chunky silhouettes peeking out from under denim while jungle and acid house ruled the airwaves. Ravers loved them because they could survive the night and still look good at the afters. And if someone puked on your foot, the leather still wiped clean.
You’re just as likely to see them on a student DJ spinning breaks in a backroom as you are on a Moss Side uncle dropping knowledge outside a Caribbean bakery. They’re a democratiser; a proper people’s boot.
Now then, Louie and I decided to swap Ancoats’ ankle-breaking cobbles for the storied walls of Eastern Bloc. We scouted some latest releases, gave them a spin and walked out with more sleeves than an octopus’s sweater. Feeling accomplished we headed to our favourite watering hole, the Castle Hotel, for a jar of ale before parting ways ahead of meeting up at Soup later where Louie would be letting his USB do the talking.
As the sun set over a mild, but still big coat worthy, Manchester I met up with Louie again as he sat in his chair outside an abnormally quiet Soup. Louie changed his shoes for the evening soirée, opting for the dark red leather Kick-Hi – I assume for easy wipeability, foreshadowing the seventh Guinness missing his lips.
I say Soup was abnormally quiet, not because the party was flat, but because the crowd was engaged, listening to DJ Paulette read a few extracts from her book ‘Welcome to the Club’. This was all centred around Read Rooms launch party, which Louie was set to take into fifth gear, opening with the Style Council ‘The World Must Come Together’, and moving swiftly onto a blend of classic house and funk. It’s in moments like these, surrounded by music, bricks and the smell of beer that the Kick Hi makes the most sense. A boot that’s walked through every era of British youth culture, from classrooms to clubs. Worn by indie kids, grime MCs, acid house heads and your mate’s dad who swears he saw The Stone Roses at Spike Island. It’s a boot that doesn’t care what scene you’re into – it just wants to dance.
And that’s the magic. The Kick Hi hasn’t changed much because it hasn’t had to. Some things get it right the first time.“
To shop the Kick-Hi, visit Kickers.
